The Haircut Mission

Leo stared at his reflection, scissors hovering over the mess of curls his mom called "adorable." At fourteen, adorable was the last thing he wanted to be.

His phone buzzed. Message from Maya: *U coming to Jordan's party?*

Leo's thumb hovered over the keyboard. *Maybe,* he typed, then deleted. He'd been lowkey crushing on Maya since seventh grade, and Jordan's party was basically the social event of the semester before everyone scattered to different high schools.

The scissors trembled in his hand. If he showed up looking like this, Maya would never see him as anything but Jordan's little brother's friend who still watched cartoons.

His dog Barnaby whined at the bathroom door, probably needing to go out. Typical. The golden retriever had the worst timing.

*SNIP.*

A chunk of dark curls fell into the sink. Leo stared at it, heart pounding. Then another. And another. Five minutes later, he looked like he'd lost a fight with a lawnmower.

"Dude," Jordan said later, staring at him. "What happened to your head?"

"Shut up." Leo pulled his red beanie lower, praying Maya wouldn't notice.

She noticed immediately. Her eyes widened, then softened. "Did you... cut your hair yourself?"

Heat crept up Leo's neck. "Yeah. It was, uh, an experiment."

Maya's lips twitched. "Well," she said, stepping closer, "it's definitely memorable." Her fingers brushed his forehead where an uneven patch stuck up. "You look like you survived something."

Barnaby chose that moment to crash through the back gate with the neighbor's sphinx cat—Mr. Whiskers, the hairless weirdo—chasing him. The party-goers scattered as the chaos unfolded.

Leo groaned. "I'm gonna go save my dog from being spied on by the naked cat."

Maya laughed. Not a mean laugh. A real one. "Wait up. I'll help."

Later, as they wrangled Barnaby and Mr. Whiskers, Maya said, "You know, you could've just told me you were nervous about the party."

Leo's face burned. "Was it that obvious?"

"Pretty much." She grinned. "But the hair? It's fearless. I respect that."

She took his beanie and tugged it until it sat straight. "Besides," she said, "you pull it off."

Leo smiled, genuinely, for the first time all night. Maybe eighth grade wouldn't be so bad after all.